


What Happens at Midnight

by Muccamukk



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Canon Era, Episode: s01e05 Crossroads, Established Relationship, M/M, Mourmelon-le-Grand, Office Blow Jobs, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, reckless sex, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-08-23 21:26:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16626692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muccamukk/pseuds/Muccamukk
Summary: Dick has a couple of ways to pass the time on a long, boring night watch at Mourmelon. One of them involves reading army field manuals. The other involves Lew.





	What Happens at Midnight

It started out as a favour to a signals lieutenant that Lew had no idea how Dick even knew. Or maybe it started with Dick being a soft-hearted son of a bitch. Either way, Dick agreed to take the kid's graveyard shift as officer of the watch so that he could go see Bing Crosby and Bob Hope in Reims.

"You can still go," Dick said when Lew slumped down into the chair beside Dick's and tipped it onto its back legs so he could put his feet up on the desk.

"Nah," Lew said, taking a long pull from his flask. "What's a USO show when I could be here with you, staring at the walls?"

Dick didn't answer, just gave Lew a sideways half smile, pulled out an army field manual and flipped it open to a marker about a third of the way in.

Lew groaned. He wanted to take another drink, but he had to make this flask last until the end of shift. If he'd been thinking ahead, he'd have brought the bottle. "Haven't you already read that one?"

"No, hot off the press." Dick held the thing up like he thought that Lew would know one U.S. Army publication from another. The cover read: _Operations in Snow and Extreme Cold_.

"Good thing we're in quarters until spring," Lew commented, and patted through his pockets for smokes. He found a half empty pack and lit one while Dick watched him sidelong, eyes focused on Lew's lips as he sucked in a lungful of smoke. Lew held out the cigarette, and Dick blinked and looked away. Lew leaned in and read over Dick's shoulder. "Oh look, _Use of snowshoes_. Christ, I hope they don't send us to Norway next."

Dick flipped the manual closed and set it on the desk with a thwap. "You could still go to the show." He folded his arms and set his mouth so that his bottom lip pursed out a little bit, and Lew had never seen anything more adorable in his damn life than Dick Winters sulking. Lew couldn't help himself—he was just a man, after all—he leaned over and kissed Dick right on that bottom lip.

For just a moment, Dick's mouth opened, and he started to kiss back, but then he realised where they were and straightened in his chair, pulling away. "Lew," he said in a low voice.

"What?" Lew demanded. "It's twenty-one thirty on a Friday night at the end of November. Trust me, the Germans are all tucked snug in their beds, and no one with any sense is going to be out there radioing in."

"Ever know anyone in the army with any sense?" Dick asked, but he leaned back in and laid a swift peck the corner of Lew's mouth.

If Lew had been able to figure out how to not grin like he'd just won the Puerto Rico Lottery instead of getting kissed, he'd have done something sensible like give Dick up months ago. Instead he smiled dopily at Dick and hoped for another kiss, just like Lew had been doing the whole war. The only compensation was that sometimes Lew saw Dick looking right back at him with that exact same expression.

Dick picked up his field manual and flipped back to the page about snowshoes, which Lew knew for a fucking fact the 101st Airborne was never going to issue to them. Dick wet his finger to flip the page, read for about thirty seconds, then looked sideways at Lew over the top of the book. If Dick were going for the coquettish librarian look, Lew would have been first to give out a contact for his own pin up posters. "Tell you what," Dick said, "you let me read this, and I promise you something good will happen around"—he made a show of checking his watch—"say zero hundred hours?"

"Something good like what?" Lew asked, but Dick had already turned back to his reading. Lew flicked the ash off his cigarette and contemplated the embers. This would not keep him distracted for another two and a half hours. Nor would translating the manual for the radio into that new cipher, and actually reading any of the manuals certainly wouldn't.

He switched on the FM radio and tuned in to Axis Sally, the American woman doing Nazi propaganda with a voice like slow-poured molasses. She always played the best jazz. Dick glanced up just for half a second then resolutely turned the page. How the heck Dick could completely tune out both Count Basie and the latest sultry inducements to just surrender because the war was already lost for the Allies, Lew would never know.

Lew smoked and leaned back in his chair, drifting in and out of sleep to the sound of American swing and Dick flipping pages every few minutes. Without really thinking about it, the hours drifted by kept in easy camaraderie, until Dick flipped the cover closed and set the manual down again. Lew reached for the radio, but Dick shook his head and held his fingers to his lips.

Then Dick dropped to his knees in front of Lew's chair, rubbed the side of his face against Lew's hip and looked up at Lew with wide grey eyes.

"Jesus Christ," Lew said. "Here?"

Dick shrugged one shoulder and looked up at Lew with that small half smile. "It's zero-hundred hours, Nix," Dick said. "The Germans are all tucked in their beds, and no one with any sense is going to report in."

It always seemed like Lew ended up paying for comments like that, and he didn't even know why. His legs were still crossed at the ankles and braced on the edge of the desk, and Lew sure as hell wasn't going to open them, no matter how bitterly the irony of that position choked him. "I'm serious, Dick," Lew said. "What if someone comes in?"

"They won't see me under the desk," Dick answered, like that solved anything. Though he was right: it was a broad work station meant for four to sit at with two across from each other. Unless someone either ducked down or crossed the room to stand behind Lew, they wouldn't see under it.

Lew groaned. The problem was that his power to resist Dick Winters on his knees on front of him had, historically, been roughly null. No matter how phenomenally stupid an idea this was, it wasn't like Lew was going to say no. He swung his feet off the desk, lifting one leg over Dick's head so that Dick was kneeling between Lew's thighs. The front legs of the chair came down with a thud a second after Lew's jump boots hit the floor, and Lew stubbed out his latest smoke. "Better make it fast," Lew said, and the gleam in Dick's eye told him that whatever happened, it wouldn't be quick.

Dick didn't say anything, but undid Lew's belt and started on his fly. Maybe it would be fast after all. Lew shifted forward so that he was sitting on the edge of the chair and spread his legs. Just having Dick in front of him was already making Lew hard, and he hissed through his teeth when Dick yanked his skivvies down to expose his cock. The brisk treatment didn't make Lew want it any less, not even when Dick put a hand on each of Lew's knees and pushed his legs apart hard enough to make his hips ache. Lew leaned back and gripped the back of the chair to stop himself from grabbing Dick's hair.

Any thought of it being in any way a quickie faded when Dick exhaled slowly on Lew's cock—moist warm breath a promise of his mouth closing over Lew, but not the same thing. Lew took a deep breath of his own and flexed his thigh muscles, trying to keep from whimpering. Dick was in one of those odd testing moods that had come and gone since Holland, and Lew would just have to ride it out best he could. Axis Sally put on a Benny Goodman tune, but the swing music would only cover so much noise.

Dick's cheek scraped down between Lew's cock and his thigh, his stubble catching on the fabric of Lew's ODs while it burned down the side of Lew's cock. It hurt, but in a way that made Lew tighten his hold on the chair and bite his lip to keep from begging for more. When Dick's lips closed over Lew's balls and the point of his tongue rolled back and forth over them, Lew rolled his head back and wished he had something to bite down on. Dick had gagged him once in Holland, jamming new socks in Lew's mouth while he fucked him fast and rough over Dick's desk. He'd had the same gleam in his eyes then, too.

Now, Dick kept rubbing his unshaven cheek against Lew's cock while he sucked and lapped at his balls, and the mix of sweet soft pleasure and harsh edges brought tears to Lew's eyes. Lew's heart pounded in his throat, and he could feel sweat trickling down his cheeks and sticking his undershirt to his chest. If someone were to come in just then, Lew would never be able to hide what they were doing. He forced himself to sit straight and wiped his face on the shoulder of his ODs.

Dick pulled away, backing up enough so that he could look up at Lew and lift an eyebrow. He was smiling, and the glow on Dick's cheeks made Lew's heart beat almost as fast as his mouth on Lew's cock. "Too much?" Dick asked.

"What, did you get started already?" Lew quipped, even though he knew he was asking for trouble.

The Goodman song rolled into the Andrews Sisters, which was good, because Lew didn't want to get off while listening to Sally's sultry mid-western voice. Whether Lew was a fruit or not confused him enough already.

"Turn that up, will you?" Dick said, and Lew reached for the radio dial, but had to grab the chair again as Dick bent back down and rubbed his closed lips over the tip of Lew's cock, spreading come across them. He looked up and waited until Lew met his eyes and then made a show of slowly licking his tongue across first his lower then his upper lip before sucking both between his teeth. His lips smacked obscenely.

Lew groaned and had to close his eyes for a second, though if he'd spurted across Dick's face then and there, Dick would have had it coming. "You know," Lew said, his voice rough from his dry throat, "for a man who was a virgin six months ago, you are one filthy bastard."

"Making up for lost time," Dick told him conversationally. He underlined his point by sucking in the tip of Lew's cock and running his tongue over the head while Lew clutched the chair until it creaked and curled his toes in his boots, trying to hold on.

For someone who'd wanted a quicky, Lew realised that he was far too invested in stretching this out for as long as he could last, and damn anyone who might walk in, their careers on the line or not. Dick's mouth felt too good on Lew, and Lew couldn't get enough of watching the way his head was bobbing up and down, his lamp-lit hair a gleaming contrast to Lew's ODs.

Dick ran the tip of his tongue under Lew's cock on the way down and sucked lightly each time he pulled back. He was trying to pull Lew back up to the edge, but Lew was holding onto the chair so hard that the slats dug into his hands and took the edge off his overwhelming need to grab Dick's hair and fuck his throat raw.

God, Dick's throat. He slid further down this time, and the head of Lew's cock brushed the back of Dick's mouth. Lew could feel Dick swallowing against it to keep from gagging, a soft, wet pulsing in counter point to the base beat of the swing tune on the radio and Lew's pounding heart.

Lew could feel his balls tightening, and he knew he was just on the very edge of coming, and the sharp pain of biting his lip almost hard enough to bleed only pushed him closer.

Heavy boot steps sounded in the hall outside the office. "Dick," Lew hissed, ice flooding his veins but doing nothing against his hard on. Under the desk, Dick froze, his lips still wrapped around Lew's cock. Lew tried to set up and slow his breathing, but he knew his face was flushed and his eyes dark with lust. Maybe whoever came in would just think he was drinking again. He could sell that, Lew thought.

But, Jesus, if they asked him anything—with Dick right there under him, holding Lew's cock in his mouth—Lew was not going to be able to string two words together. He could barely focus enough now to separate the sounds in the hallway from the music on the radio. He wanted to reach over and turn it down, but they needed whatever cover he could get. The song rolled into something soft and slow with Dinah Shore, and Lew suppressed a groan.

It wouldn't be so bad if the danger didn't always seem to turn him on. If Lew wasn't such a reckless son of a bitch, he'd never have agreed to this idiocy in the first place. Lew glanced down and wished he hadn't, because now he'd forever have the image of Dick kneeing between his legs patiently waiting with his mouth stuffed full of cock, his perfect hair just a little ruffled, and Lew didn't know what to do with that much fantasy material all at once.

Outside, the boots shuffled, and a voice called out something from further down the hall. Lew wasn't the only one drinking, it seemed.

There was a thump on the door, rattling the flimsy wooden frame, and Lew flinched and held his breath like that would make a difference. Dick's mouth tightened around his cock, which really didn't help at all.

"Go away," Lew hissed under his breath, and tried not to think about an old jerk off fantasy of Lew sucking Dick off in front of the whole mess while they all watched and knew that Lew belonged to Dick and no one else. Which of course made him think of it, and how in the fantasy Dick'd had his hands buried in Lew's hair, holding him in place while Dick thrust into his mouth, how Lew had stayed like that even after Dick had come, just like Dick was doing now. "Go away," Lew muttered again.

The voice down the hall yelled more insistently, and the man outside the door shouted drunkenly that he'd be there in a minute, goddammit. A hand slapped the frosted glass of the door, and Lew stared at the door knob, his whole world divided between that and Dick's hot mouth.

The door rattled again, but the handle didn't turn, and a moment later the footsteps receded back down the hall. Lew heard the voices mingling together and fading under the music. He let out an explosive sigh. He could feel his hands starting to shake on the release of tension and gripped the chair to stop them.

Dick stayed frozen where he was for a long moment. Lew hadn't noticed that Dick's fingers were digging into Lew's thighs just above his knees until he eased off and Lew felt where the bruises would form. Dick looked up at Lew, his eyes wide and grey above Lew's cock, and Lew could read the shock in his expression. It only lasted for a second, and then Dick closed his eyes and leaned in. He swallowed Lew all the way down. Dick had been working on that trick, and he could only do it for a second, but that was enough. Dick's throat was tight and hot around the head of Lew's cock, and his lips stretched wide around the base. Dick's stubbled chin brushed against Lew's balls, that did it.

Lew rolled his head back and squeezed his eyes shut as he struggled against crying out. The brassy start of a new song covered the deep groan that Lew couldn't keep in, or he hoped it did. Dick tightened his lips and sucked hard as he pulled back, drawing every last drop of come out of Lew, like dragging nails down Lew's back, or throwing him out of an airplane. Lew choked and had to look, then groaned again at the sight of Dick with just the head of Lew's slack cock in his mouth, and at the feel of Dick's tongue circling his foreskin, lapping everything up. Lew's cock was too sensitive to take that kind of touch for long, but the edge of pain felt so good. He shook and jerked against Dick's mouth until he couldn't move any more.

When Dick pulled away, he had a gleam of come at the corner of his mouth, but instead of licking it away, he swiped it up with his fingers and held them up for Lew to suck. Lew couldn't do anything other than open his mouth for Dick's fingers. He sucked them like he would Dick's cock, cleaning his own come off with wide swipes of his tongue, not flinching at the taste like he once had. Lew loved the feel of Dick's callouses, how gentle his soldier's hands could be when he was touching Lew, and how rough, depending on the mood. Lew swallowed Dick's fingers as far down as he could, and was rewarded with a high, needy whimper.

Lew heard Dick's fly unzip, and then Dick's fingers curled in Lew's mouth as Dick pulled himself off with his left hand. His breath came in tight little huffs as he rocked into his hand.

Lew kept sucking and wished that Dick would let Lew touch him, but they really didn't have time for that. They'd taken a hell of a risk already, and almost paid for it with their careers. Lew's pounding heart was only half from coming hard, and the other half was from staring at the door knob waiting for it to turn. Maybe that was why Dick had his fingers in Lew's mouth, to keep him from chewing Dick out until after he'd come.

Dick didn't last long. He came with a grunt all over the floor under the chair. Lew only spent half a thought on getting come on his jump boots and Dick having to lick them clean. Jesus. Lew hadn't been a virgin since prep school, but he'd never been this dirty before he'd started hooking up with Dick Winters.

For a few moments Dick rested his sweaty forehead on Lew's knee. Then he pulled his fingers out of Lew's mouth, tucked himself away and zipped up. When Lew moved to do the same, Dick batted his hands away and gently slipped Lew's cock back into his pants and pulled his skivvies up before fastening Lew's fly and belt.

Dick got up slowly, knees clearly stiff. Lew gave him a hand, and they Dick hovered half suspended over Lew for a moment before leaning in to press his lips against Lew's. The kiss didn't really go anywhere, but sealed the moment between them. Then Dick flopped back into his chair. Lew realised that his legs were still spread wide and closed them, feeling the prolonged stretch in his thigh muscles.

The song ended, and Axis Sally started on about the home front. Lew reached over and switched the radio off. The heavy click of the dial seemed to echo in the silence that followed.

Dick met Lew's eyes and now, of all times, Dick flushed bright red and glanced down at the floor. "Guess I better clean that up before shift change, huh?"

"You got a field manual for getting semen off painted cement?" Lew asked. What he really wanted to ask was, _Holy shit, what the ever living fuck was that, Dick?_ but he didn't think that would get a good response. Or get him laid ever again, and Lew needed this if he was going to get through the war.

The corner of Dick's mouth twitched up wryly, and Lew knew that Dick knew what he was thinking. "No. I'll just have to wing it."

"Seems like that's your speciality," Lew said. He was trying to sound pissed off, but all the adrenaline was running out of his body at once, and he couldn't hold it together long enough to stay mad at Dick. More accurately, Lew could never stay mad at Dick. Which was good, because it wasn't like Dick ever said he was sorry about anything.

"Maybe it is." Dick reached across and cupped the line of Lew's jaw with his palm and stroked his thumb along Lew's cheekbone. Lew leaned into the touch, deciding he'd count it as an apology for almost getting them caught. Hell, maybe it was. Lew couldn't tell what the hell Dick was thinking half the time these days. He'd been in a mood since his promotion and that had been over a month ago. When Lew turned his face to kiss Dick's palm, Dick let his hand drop.

Lew's thoughts had slowed down enough to separate lust from terror, at least as much as was possible when the two emotions had been so tightly wound together. They'd fed on each other, in the moment, heightening every sensation, but it was the kind of high Lew was happy feeling only once. Though he couldn't quite be dishonest enough to tell himself that he wished he didn't know what it felt like at all. He hadn't come that hard since Dick's desk on the Island. "I want it on record that we're never doing that again," Lew said.

"Noted," Dick replied. He slumped down into his chair, looking wrung out.

"You need a damn furlough," Lew said, looking him over. "We both need a damn furlough."

"You could have gone to the USO tonight," Dick pointed out. "But you said you wanted to keep me company instead."

"Right. Staring at the walls." Lew's hands were still shaking, so he fumbled open his flask and swallowed back the rest of the scotch. He breathed deeply until the alcohol kicked in and gave everything a warm glow and a bit of distance. "You, my friend, are driving me to drink," Lew said.

"Not a long trip," Dick replied, but for once there wasn't that undertone of censure in his voice. Instead, he sounded tired but indulgent. He smiled at Lew, and it was the soft slightly goofy look that was really only directed at one person.

Lew felt something warm blossom in his chest, and told himself it was the booze, even though he knew his heart felt the same even when he was tragically sober. "Switch chairs?" he asked.

They did. Lew smoked, flipped through the cold weather field manual and stared at Dick's ass while Dick cleaned the floor. He found a page about parachute troops in winter operations that said to make sure the troopers were dropped with skis or snowshoes. _In deep snow, they will be almost helpless._ Lew shivered and shut the book.

Rain and mud aside, it wasn't such a bad life wintering in quarters. They'd have few months of rest before the spring offensives ramped up, and maybe by the end of it, Dick wouldn't look so damn tired all the time. Lew would try get them some passes, in the meantime, maybe go to Paris, or back to England for Christmas if he could swing it. They could get a quiet little cottage and Dick wouldn't even have to gag Lew when he made him scream.

Lew would ask Sink the next night. Hell he would ask General Taylor, if he had to. The words _I would do anything in the world for you, Dick,_ hovered in his mind, but Lew didn't say them. He figured he didn't have to. What they'd just done pretty well proved that point without any need to get soppy about it.

The next shift showed up a few minutes later, and Dick and Lew walked back to their billets, shoulders bumping in the narrow hall, a thousand things unspoken between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Spicy Advent. The prompt is also the title.
> 
> [FM 70-15 War Department Basic Field Manual, Operations in Snow and Extreme Cold 1944-11-04](https://archive.org/details/Fm70-15), for the curious. Someone needs to write fic about our boys trying to build an igloo based on those directions.


End file.
